


Into the Blue

by ninemoons42



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-28
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:15:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42





	Into the Blue

  
title: Into the Blue  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ninemoons42**](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)  
word count: 927  
fandom: X-Men: First Class [movieverse]  
characters: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, the Phoenix  
rating: R  
notes: Charles gets his brain broken on the beach and an unexpected presence manifests to help him out. Canon AU.

  
Phantom sensation, his body and his mind fighting against the dream of the coin.

He can't see Erik in his mind any more, only sees him as a punched-out shadow in the world, a tiny yawning mouth into the abyss of madness. Charles thinks very, very briefly of Nietzsche and then - pain.

Something/nothing touches his forehead, flash of blue heat, and the litany looping at the back of his head repeats itself once, twice - _don't scream, it will hurt more if you scream_ \- before he has to fight to stay on his feet because he can feel the coin moving, through his head/through Shaw's head, and he can hear a high, thin cry and he doesn't realize it's his own voice until he has to suddenly choke and breathe, and scream again.

In his mind he cries _ErikErikErik make it stop no no no I'm here I'm right here_ and no one is calling back to him, no one in a voice he knows.

Blue light sparking behind his eyelids, painpainpain and the thing he dreads the most: Shaw, Schmidt, this horrifying man of many names, come to lay waste to the world. The misguided belief in the "children of the atom", the fierce gloating joy of dominating others and underneath that the sick gibbering fear of being hunted and hated and feared.

He almost wants to throw up, but he's all nerves and bile and blood and pain now, and Charles doesn't even have the strength to swallow the darkness clawing its way through him, into him.

 _make it stop someone help me Erik please please please_

Charles sinks to his knees. The fingers of his right hand seem welded to his temple - he's frozen, he's going to die, he never wants to know anything more about the hideous little thing calling itself Sebastian Shaw.

Charles closes his eyes. _Please. Take it all away._ Even his mental voice sounds weak and shaky, sounds like nothing compared to the great roaring protests in his head, Shaw's death throes and the inexorable progress of the coin.

And then: _**I am here. I can hear you. I can help you.**_

Charles's mind is a haze of blood and bone and barbed wire, and it all fades into blue, flames and heat and a soothing, faraway song.

 _Whowhathelpme_ , Charles thinks. _Hurtsfriendhurtsfriendhurtingme_

 _ **I can take away your pain. I can help you and I can help your friend. Let me in.**_

 _What_

 _ **I am Life. I am Passion. I am Creation.**_

 _ **I am the Phoenix. And you know me, Charles Francis Xavier. You and yours will find me again and again. And today I offer my aid to you. Let me in, and I can save you, I can save your friend. Save this world and this reality. We can shape this world together.**_

 _Nonono,_ Charles thinks, disjointed and shocked, and he snaps his thoughts back into some kind of coherence. _You sound exactly like that man being killed. I will not be judge or jury to anyone or anything, least of all this world._

In Charles's mind the blue haze coalesces into a woman wreathed in flames, a woman bearing great wings of light. She is smiling. _**And this is why we will encounter each other, Charles, time and again. This is merely our first meeting. I see the truth that you want and the truth you carry in your heart; I see the truth that you need to learn, and I want you to have the power and the time and the ability to do so.**_

 _Truth, truth,_ Charles says, _so subjective. Do you see what I see in my mind? So many beliefs. So much pain. But I would rather carry the pain than judge._

 _ **Then let me help you carry it,**_ the woman says. _**Take my hand. And the freedom to choose will still be yours. I do not force. I merely lend my strength to those who need it.**_

 _And I will be myself?_

 _ **Yes.**_

Charles falls to his knees again as the distant burn of the coin finally exits his mind. He flinches as the coin falls and lands with a boom, the echoes tearing at his already-tattered memories.

And he closes his eyes and stretches out his hand, and there is a warmth folding around him. A song of strength and courage.

He sees the others as they stop what they are doing and turn to him. Their thoughts unfolding and shaking in his presence. Shock and fear and concern and awe.

The sand yields to the pressure of his feet as he walks calmly forward. Blue wings in his mind, auroral tinge in the sunlight, and he can see worlds and possibilities unrolling before him.

To Moira, he says, "Please put away your gun." To Raven: "I've offended you, I've hurt you; I'm sorry. You are beautiful." To the other children, to Angel and Riptide and Azazel looking wary: "Don't be afraid."

And then he looks at Erik and for a moment, Charles recoils and the great blue flame wavers.

Shaw's blood on Erik's hands, and the world shattering around him. Lives snuffed out, the thick choking miasma of revenge. A path that could be inexorable, a path that he could still turn away from.

He steels himself and he holds his hand out to Erik: "Are you really that eager to watch the world burn?"

Charles holds his breath, and the phoenix curled within him waits, and it seems the world itself strains toward Erik and his answer.  



End file.
